


I don't know why you pretend that it causes you pain

by toitsu



Category: City of Dead Sorcerer
Genre: M/M, Manhwa, it wouldn't leave me alone okay, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toitsu/pseuds/toitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Kim is having hard time thinking about something other than the girly face of a nameless boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't know why you pretend that it causes you pain

**Author's Note:**

> Recently I got hooked to manhwa City of Dead Sorcerer, or Dead Sorcerer's City, as it's also called, and couldn't find any fanfiction or anything really for it. 
> 
> So I had to write something. 
> 
> Title from a song 'She's a lady' by Pulp.

It's the face.

 

The pretty, _girly_ face.

 

He wouldn't be thinking of that boy otherwise, he is sure of it.

 

Wouldn't be having these _dreams_ otherwise.

 

*

 

He can't resist stopping by the store, again. The part-time worker is standing there, in same position as yesterday - as if he hasn't moved a muscle since the last time Kim saw him. He could be a statue, for all the work he has to do around. Really, it would be better to invest into a statue - you only have to pay for it once.

 

What a waste, Kim thinks, what a waste of such a pretty face on a boy.

 

*

 

He likes pretty things, but not enough to ever get caught watching - sure, he'd had his relationships but he was never tempted enough into marriage, into commitment - he can hardly remember the last time there was a woman in his life.

 

Pretty things are just that, pretty things. He likes to watch, but he needs more than that. What does 'more' entail, he isn't really sure, but he hasn't found it yet. Not that he is looking for it much.

 

He wonders what kind of life the boy is leading.

 

*

 

But, really, he shouldn't be thinking about the nameless part-time worker in a store he sometimes drop by, no matter how pretty he is. He has a case to solve, a hero - _hero,_ what a ridiculous notion - to apprehend. No time for boys twice younger.

 

Still, when the boy hesitantly calls after him ('Um, detective Kim'), his heart beats a little bit faster, even if the conversation makes him a bit irritated, in the end. Just his luck, that there is something wrong with the boy. Apart from that ridiculously girly face.

 

*

 

He really is a bit too old for his hormones to take control of him. He is not in the mood for wet dreams. He stopped having those almost two decades ago.

 

He highly doubts the boy would meekly follow him if he said 'Come with me', would blindly trust the stranger (even if the stranger is almost regular customer now and known detective) as the blurry images his mind conjures suggest.

 

No, the boy would probably politely refuse, and maybe suggest a therapist.

 

Still, the images don't stop there; his subconsciousness doesn't care what the boy would actually do or not do – in his dreams, the boy smiles and slides over the counter and then they are magically (ha ha – _magically_ ) transported to Kim's apartment, to Kim's bedroom, and the ugly jacket comes off, shirt comes off, pants follow and –

 

\- and he is still – or again? – hard.

 

Kim groans. He is too old for this, and he has far more urgent things to do. Like catching a murderer.

 

(But he can spare five more minutes, can't he, indulge a little? The boy really has such long, long eye lashes. And so tall – he must have miles and miles of legs. Legs he'd like to wrap around himself – and dammit, he is just going to _have_ to take matters into his own hands, and _hope_ it will pass.)

 

*

 

Hair spilling over the pillows, and yes, the boy does have legs that go on for miles. His eyes shine in the dim light and the smile he wears is coy. The smile is the only thing he wears tonight. His skin is pale, and Kim is going to change that – is working on it, in fact – he is sucking on the tender skin beneath the angle of that delicate jaw; he can feel boy's pulse, so fast, and he twitches when Kim touches him.

 

Fingers rake down Kim's back and then he is pulled up for a kiss, long and wet and _filthy_ – the coy smile and demure act just that – an act.

 

He's never felt like this with a woman – there is danger here, in flat expanse of chest, in well defined muscles. The boy arches his back with a hiss when Kim palms his erection – there is nothing shy in the way he presses himself into Kim, demanding more. Kim is all too happy to oblige.

 

The boy moans, and the sound might have been Kim's name, and god help him, but he is going to fuck this boy, this beautiful, nameless boy who is spreading his legs wider, and Kim leans in and –

 

\- and falls off his bed, sunlight making his eyes teary.

 

He throws his head back and lets out a long string of curses.

 

That was _it._

 

*

 

He can't help feeling a little defeated when he goes to the store and finds out the part-timer had already quit.

 

*

 

Sometime later, Crimson Robe enters his life as obtrusively as the boy quietly slipped out of it.


End file.
